Walking with You
by MurderousBunnies
Summary: Hanna/Zombie fic for RandomDragon's contest. I don't normally ship these two as more than bromance, but I tried really hard to make it as canon as possible, so I hope they like it. I decided to use first person in hopes of easing {...}'s lack of a name and trying something new, but it proved much harder than I thought. I'll add more comments/whatever tomorrow. For now, enjoy.
1. Chapter 1: A Thousand Ways to Meet You

Every night, when Hanna would go to sleep, I would take a long walk around the city. It gave me time to clear my mind while Hanna rested. I would stroll through the dark streets, sometimes stopping at the library to drop off a book I'd recently finished in the 24-hour bin, sometimes not, but mostly just wandering by the orange reflections of the old street lights. After dying, I remembered nothing of my life. I couldn't even remember my own grave. I just decided to wander, quietly observing. I continued this for ten years until finally, I met Hanna. It took less than a mere day for Hanna to accept and welcome me into his life, and as the sun slid down the dark maw of the city skyline one early October night, I walked with Hanna's company.

Usually, I would take my daily walk after Hanna had gone to bed, but today wasn't a normal day - though one could argue that no day in Hanna's company was normal. The redhead had asked to accompany me, but as we walked, it became increasingly apparent that he had no intentions of going around my regular block or two. Instead, Hanna skipped beside me, chittering at me about the changing seasons and how really he needed to get me a new scarf because wow mine was way too winter-y.

"So I'm thinking something orange and brown? To match the season, I mean. Pumpkin time is my favorite time of the year, did you know that? I'll bet you could guess. You already know me so well, Oberon."

The side of my mouth twitched at the new name. Hanna's inextinguishable enthusiasm always left me with the faint feeling of clenching in my chest. A lot of things Hanna did left me feeling this way. From what I've deduced, it could perhaps be labeled happiness. I pondered the ghosts of feelings I could only presume were once more apparent in my life as we walked the busy city streets. I was, of course, wearing my usual jacket, the hat Hanna had given me as a Christmas present a year before, and the scarf currently in question now that it was suitable weather to cover one's body from the autumn chill. Hanna kicked at a stray leaf as we approached the less populated side of town, and the thought crossed my mind that it was odd to believe I had known Hanna nearly an entire year. When had the anniversary of our meeting occurred exactly? My long-term traipsing without a near clue as to my previous identity left, as well as other things, my memory for dates lacking. I resolved not to ask as of now for fear of hurting Hanna.

"Edmund? Hey, Earth to Alphonse?"

Hanna was waving his hand in front of me.

"Yes?"

My partner scrunched his mouth to one side, frowning.

"You weren't listening, were you, bro?" He didn't wait for my answer. "I was saying that I got an email yesterday from some guy asking us to get rid of some creature for him."

I watched Hanna, curious to see where this case would take us. It was odd Hanna hadn't mentioned it earlier, though it did explain why he had wanted to go out into the chilly air instead of staying in or crashing Conrad's apartment.

"He does not know what kind of creature it is that is bothering him?"

"Apparently not," Hanna answered, taking a turn around a corner to follow a trail of older-looking homes down the sidewalk. "He said he couldn't tell what it was, but he did say it was giving him 'evil visions' and stalking around the shadows of his home, so that kinda sounds malicious. His house isn't too far from here, though, so I guess we'll find out!"

He pulled out a piece of paper with directions and an address scribbled messily on it, and I wondered if he had his hammer and sharpie shoved in his long jacket pockets as well. I knew I was at least half correct.

"153 Chestnut Avenue….aha! It's that one!"

Hanna laughed in triumph, pointing towards a dark greenish house, lined only by a few dying trees. It was in near disarray with the wilting plants and chipping paint, but the setting sun's orange lambency combined with the faint reflection of the similarly coloured street lights left it looking eerier than I suspected it did at noon. Nonetheless, the setting sun and artificial light were the only things making this house look anywhere near welcoming. It appeared to have no light coming from within. Hanna grabbed my gloved hand and pulled me towards it without apprehension.

"Come on, Malvolio!"

It wasn't until we reached the old wooden porch that Hanna let go of my hand. I immediately missed the warmth he radiated melting through my glove. He glanced at the door, looking around for the proper way to knock.

"Why don't we just try the doorbell?" I offered. He grinned back at me.

"Of course!"

He pressed the small button quickly, glancing at me as we waited patiently for whomever occupied the old house to answer. I suppose _I_ waited patiently for our future client. Hanna rocked back and forth on his heels in barely contained excitement.

Finally, the door creaked open, revealing a glimpse of a man through the small crack.

"Hello?"

"Hi! I'm Hanna Falk Cross, paranormal investigator, and this is my partner. I believe we were asked to come to this address to help with a troublesome creature?"

Hanna beamed up at the man as he opened the door quickly. The client was a short, dark man, fidgety and nervous. He wrung his hands together as he looked us both up and down in the light cast from behind him.

"Ah, of course… Welcome. My name is Navier Tivan. I wasn't expecting you to come so…" He paused, taking in Hanna's wild orange hair and my own undead appearance. "Quickly."

"Well, we're here," Hanna supplied helpfully, glancing behind Mr. Tivan in eagerness. "Would you mind if we, uh, came in? It's kinda cold out here."

"Oh, um, yes. Please, do come in."

Mr. Tivan held the door open for us, Hanna proudly waltzing into the dimly lit house while I followed behind him.

"Thank you," I said. It seemed to shock Mr. Tivan that I was capable of speech, but then again, our client appeared to be shocked by many things in the short span we knew him.

Hanna whistled appreciatively at the old house. The foyer opened up into two separate rooms, one of which, which I assumed was the kitchen, was illuminated only by small items, not by any means of electricity. The other room remained completely dark. I suppose that explained why we did not notice any lights from within before. The dark wooden staircase in front of us led upstairs to a large hall, once again only sparsely lighted, and above us I noticed an unlit electric chandelier.

"Well, if you would please follow me," Mr. Tivan coughed, appearing uncomfortable with us glancing about his home. "I would rather sit and talk about my…issue with you."

I nodded, and Hanna grinned up at the man, trailing after him towards the kitchen area. Mr. Tivan motioned for Hanna and I to sit down at a small table while he turned toward the counter, taking a few stray candles (and what I believe was a camping lantern) and placing them upon the surface.

"Would you like some tea or coffee?" he asked, grabbing a kettle from the stove top and filling it with water.

"Norton doesn't drink, but I'll have something," Hanna eagerly supplied, settling himself in a cushioned chair. "Do you have anything with chocolate in it?"

Mr. Tivan looked Hanna over once more before decidedly dropping what he appeared to want to say.

"I shall check," he answered, flicking on the stove and rummaging through a cupboard. When he finally returned, two steaming mugs in hand, Hanna had shifted his gaze around the entire kitchen and assumably gone through an internal list of what might be wrong that Mr. Tivan would require his help.

"Soooo," Hanna began, eloquent as usual. "I'm thinking you _didn't _call us for tea."

"No," Mr. Tivan answered, watching Hanna cautiously take an eager sip from his steaming beverage. "I have a bit of a…spirit problem."

"Spirit?" Hanna instantly perked up. I glanced at him doubtfully. Doc Worth had warned Hanna that he wasn't to deal with anymore ghosts, especially not after the case with Mr. Falun. After my possession, I wasn't too keen on the idea either.

"I think it's more of a…" Mr. Tivan waved his hand, looking for the right word. "Demon, I think."

Suddenly, I was more uneasy than before. A ghost, I knew we could at least handle, but a demon? I trusted Hanna completely, but it left a sinking feeling in my stomach that we might be in over our heads once again.

"Are you sure?"

"Well, I think so. I mean, it keeps giving me these awful nightmares and sneaking around in the shadows."

"That does sound pretty malicious," Hanna muttered, glancing at me. The warm light reflecting off his glasses made him look all the more serious than any 24-year old should. "But demons don't just come out of nowhere. They're extremely dangerous and have intricate summoning requirements. You didn't…yannow, summon one, did you?"

Mr. Tivan glanced around uneasily before answering.

"No, no! I didn't! It was given to me!"

"Given to you? No matter what they say, demons don't have masters."

"I think, it came in a box," Tivan confessed, pushing his drink aside.

I watched Hanna's face for any sign of fear, but he held firm.

"What kind of box?" the redhead asked, clearly a bit perplexed.

"A…wine rack. See, I was given the wine rack as a birthday gift from a friend," he whispered, voice suddenly lower than before. I wondered how a demon could possibly be contained in a mere box, but Hanna seemed to be convinced even without the backstory. "I'm a collector of sorts, you see, but I don't want this item anymore. Usually, I'm all for the weird and rare, but I can't take this anymore!"

Mr. Tivan was visibly shaking by now, eyes looking around the room in near-panic. I was glad Hanna chose this moment to step in.

"Woah, calm down, it's ok. We can help. Just tell me a bit more about how you got this box and what you think is attacking you now."

Our client calmed himself, grabbing hold of his drink once more.

"My friend gave me the rack. He said he found it at a pawn shop and thought I'd like the antique style, but soon, it became more than just a rare find. It's consumed my life. At first, I just left it alone in the dining room. I mean, the contents were a bit weird; it contained two pennies, a lock of blonde hair, a lock of black hair, a wine goblet, a dried rose, a small a lock of blonde hair bound with cord, a lock of black/brown hair bound with cord, an engraved tablet, and a candle holder. They seemed random, and I thought it was some sort of weird joke, but after I took the items out, bad things started happening. I kept dreaming of this ugly woman. She'd just follow me, whispering behind me until finally she'd scream and turn into the most hideous thing I've ever seen! I'd wake up with scratches and welts, and soon the thing started coming after me during the day, too. It'd lurk in the shadow, just…watching me. I'd see it out of the corner of my eye, but when I turned around, it would be gone or worse, behind me. Now it keeps whispering in my ears and following me no matter where I go. You've got to stop it, _please_."

"Hey, we'll do our best," Hanna promised. "But I'm curious to see this box. Can you show us?"

Mr. Tivan nodded, grabbing a candle before leading us into the dining room. He set the candle down, nodding towards a corner.

"It's over there, but I'm warning you. The last time I opened it, it burst the lights out."

I glanced at Hanna. He was already scribbling a rune onto his palm with a sharpie, much to Mr. Tivan's nervous dismay.

"Hanna, are you sure this is a good idea?"

"Sure!" Hanna laughed. "I think," he opened the box cautiously, and the rune on his palm glowed blue. "That this isn't _quite_ a demon."

He was cut off by a gush of cold air seemingly coming from the box. I felt a surge of protectiveness swell in my chest and prepared myself for action, reaching for Hanna's shoulder.

Peering at the box, I was shocked to see…nothing.

"Huh. Well, that was anticlimactic, huh, Cecil?"

"It's already watching us," Mr. Tivan supplied.

"Hm, well, in that case, I think I know what this is," Hanna grinned. He turned back to Mr. Tivan, as I watched the box that had supposedly been causing our client so much stress.

"Would you mind us taking the box, Mr. Tivan?" Hanna asked? I turned my glowing gaze to him in slight shock. He wanted to take the box? Why weren't we just trying to exorcise the demon or whatever here instead?

"Sure! Take it! Take it away! I'll pay you now, just please take it if that will get rid of this….this thing!"

Tivan flicked his head toward the wine box, and Hanna smiled, closing the offending item.

"Horatio, will you pick that up for me? Don't worry, it's not of any danger right now." He turned his attention back to Mr. Tivan quickly. "So now is the matter of payment. You said you'd pay now. We're going to have to go through a good bit of work in order to get rid of this."

"Yes. Sure, sure," our client muttered in response as he ran back to the kitchen quickly and returned only to toss a pile of bills in Hanna's open hands. "I'm sure that will cover it. Please, just…get rid of it."

"Gnee, thanks!" Hanna grinned, eagerly counting the money as we walked. "This guy certainly shouldn't bother you any more!"

"Yes, well, I sure hope you know what you're getting into, Mr. Cross. Good day."

Mr. Tivan watched us until we were back on the sidewalk. When we were safely away from his home, he finally closed the door. I turned to Hanna, my eyes lighting up his face in the evening dark.

"What are we going to do with this?" I asked. Hanna only smiled at me, and I had that sinking feeling once again.

"Well first, we're going to need reinforcements."


	2. Chapter 2: A Deal is Made

We arrived on Conrad's doorstep at about 11p.m. to find the vampire disgruntled and unhappy as was usual these days.

"Veser, what the hell did I say? I told you not to…" He threw opened the door, obviously expecting to find the half-selkie. "…knock so loudly."

Conrad visibly grimaced.

"Hanna. Zombie."

"Hey, Con-my-man! How's it going?"

"Fine," Conrad ground out. "Just fine. Why are you here, Hanna?"

Straight to the point, then.

"Weeeeell, I was hoping to get your help! We've got this box here, and —"

Conrad realized where this was going and immediately cut Hanna off.

"No, no, no. Hanna, I have been on enough misadventures for the rest of my life - unlife - whatever. I'm not helping you with anything. And why is he carrying…is that a cabinet?"

"Yeah, it's a haunted wine cabinet," dismissed Hanna. "But what's important is that we need your help."

"No. Ask Worth or Toni or anyone else, but stop asking me," Conrad begged.

"Cooonrad," Hanna whined, looking up at the vampire with the biggest puppy eyes he could muster as I watched in faint amusement. "We can't take care of this ourselves, and Worth would kill me if he knew I was taking this on."

"Good! Maybe I should spare him the work," Conrad threatened, though both Hanna and I knew it was half-hearted. The graphic designer was starting to lose his resolve.

"Aw, you don't mean it, Connie! Come on, just let us in."

Conrad held out for another few seconds, looking between Hanna, me, and the box currently in my hands. He sighed, but I suspect it was mostly for effect.

"Fine. Come in."

Conrad stalked back into the apartment, going to his desk and shutting the computer off as Hanna and I settled on the couch. I placed the wine cabinet on the coffee table.

"So what the hell do you need me for anyway? And what is this box?" Conrad finally asked, sitting down to adjust his glasses. "It has quite the intricate design. Quite arabesque."

"Well, I _think _it's a dybbuk box."

"A dib-_what_?"

Obviously, I was not the only person here unaware of what a dybbuk box was.

"A dybbuk box," Hanna repeated. "I read about one of these a few years ago… I thought it was the only one in existence, but I think this must be a second one, perhaps one of lesser power. The box I read about, was a Jewish wine cabinet which was used to contain a dybbuk me-ru'aḥ ra'ah, or a malicious spirit. They're… like ghosts, but higher on the evil-power scale. They've got to be removed or locked back into where they came from."

Conrad's face was a mixture between fear and resisting the urge to toss us out.

"So, we could use an extra hand doing that."

"And if I don't agree to this?"

"I tell Worth you let me fight a ghost by myself."

Conrad narrowed his eyes.

"And what makes you think that would bother me in the slightest?"

"It won't," Hanna replied smugly. "But Worth would."

"…fine."

"Great! So, Algernon," Hanna returned his attention to me. "You're ok with this, too, right?"

I looked the box over once more.

"I suppose, but Hanna, the last time we faced a ghost…"

"Don't worry! We've got Connie again, and this time, I'm prepared! Conrad, do you have any salt?"

"Um, yes, I think so. I bought you a tub when I first started buying your groceries, though."

The vampire went to rummage through his kitchen, and Hanna smiled at me.

"Don't worry, Algernon. I know we can do this together."

He took my hand, and I felt that faint warm feeling again. That and apprehensive fear.

"I trust you, Hanna."

"Hey, will this work?"

Conrad had returned carrying a tub of kosher salt, handing the item off to Hanna.

"Perfect!" Hanna exclaimed, holding the salt out for admiration like a prized jewel or a new teddy bear. "Now, before we begin, I'll have to explain the rules here. Conrad, you're not going to be able to enter the salt circle, so you're going to be our outer guard, like, in case this thing gets free."

"Circle? You mean you're dumping that on my floor? No way, Hanna. I just vacuumed and I don't want you dumping random table condiments on my clean floors!"

"And Horatio," Hanna turned towards me, pulling out his trusty marker and scribbling a long pattern on the top of the box. "You and I are going to force this thing back in the box. Currently, it's probably observing us, so we all need to be on alert as soon as I open it. If my suspicious are correct, we need to get it's name as quickly as possible and ignore any and all promises or threats it might make towards us. Dybbuks are like demons in the sense that they take power from their names and can make pacts with creatures in exchange for your energy, soul, whatever. You can't believe their lies. No matter what they say to you, they're lying in one way or another. You guys understand?"

I nodded, and Conrad bit at his lip.

"And what if you can't put this thing back in? What if it possesses one of us?"

"Well….we'll cross that bridge _if_ we come to it."

I had the feeling that if was more of a when.

"Oh God, Hanna… This is a bad idea."

"You worry too much, Connie! Just trust me."

Hanna said these words to Conrad, but he looked back at me, and I realized this was his confirmation that yes, he trusted me too. I felt that warm feeling increase, right near where my heart must once have been and perhaps still remained. I couldn't place what was causing these feelings, but they'd been increasing in frequency the longer I'd been with Hanna. Perhaps this was that big, mysterious feeling people spoke of in novels when they were near the ones that truly mattered most to them. Certainly over the past year, I'd come to the conclusion that I was happy if not more to be in Hanna's welcoming company. It occurred to me to wonder whether or not I'd felt this feeling before, perhaps in a life I could no longer recollect, but I had little time to ponder the idea. Hanna had shoved a hand into the pocket of his long coat he'd tossed over the top of the couch and was pulling out his hammer. He scribbled another rune onto the weapon, which in turn began glowing as well. He handed the hammer to me, then turned and dumped a large trail of salt in a near-perfect circle around the table and subsequently around the box.

Conrad watched in barely contained horror, but stayed quiet. Come to think of it, the entire apartment was eerily quiet now, only Hanna's breathing disrupting the stillness. He swallowed and began.

"I know you're watching us, and I know what you are," Hanna began, sounding much more sure of himself than he'd perviously been. "You've been haunting a man, and I don't know why you're trapped in this box, but I'm here to either get you out and into the next world or to shove you back in."

Nothing.

We waited.

A minute or two passed with nothing out of the ordinary happening. Then, Hanna finally opened the box. The same gust of wind came surging out, but as it blew and wailed, I was shocked to see it trapped within the confines of the double circles. Each time a strike of air would come wafting from within the box, it would be stopped by the invisible barrier, like a bug tossing itself roughly against the side of the jar that contained it. Finally, a dark shape began forming from the box's open doors. It slid up, humanoid in shape but far more ugly. Its skin was made of rolling sludge, and its long hair was tangled and matted to the point one could not see beyond to its eyes. Apparently, you could see its eyes, though, for the creature opened two shining red orbs and gazed down at Hanna condescendingly.

"What do you seek, boy?" It growled out, voice feminine and high-pitched despite its appearance. Conrad and I watched in amazement as this creature slid down the invisible walls of it's prison, blackness ever-morphing and surrounding the box. Hanna looked into its eyes and didn't falter.

"I want your name," he replied dryly.

"_My_ name?" the creature laughed. "Well isn't that boring. What about you, vampire? What is it that _you_ seek?"

It turned its piercing gaze toward Conrad, who visibly shrank back into his seat.

"Aha, I see," It drawled. "You want your humanity back… Why, I can give it to you, you know."

The dybbuk twirled around, black skin folding and falling as it spoke. It brought two hands up to level with Conrad's face.

"No more fang, no more red eyes… I can easily give it back, Conrad."

Hanna glared at the spirit.

"He doesn't believe your lies."

The dybbuk turned to Hanna again.

"Oh, but I think he does believe me. And why shouldn't he? I don't lie… I know what he wants. I know what _you_ want, too, Mr. Cross."

"You don't," Hanna insisted.

"And I know what your friend wants, too," the creature tittered, unfazed by Hanna's insistance. "Isn't that right, Algernon? You want your memories back. I can give you those, too. All you need to do is set me free. What do you say, boys?"

It floated to the towards the ceiling, looking down at us all. Conrad was gazing up at the dybbuk, seemingly spellbound by an invisible force, likely one of the spirit's mind games. Perhaps it was exerting more influence than it showed. Hanna was furiously scribbling up his arm, glancing back between the dybbuk and Conrad and I.

"Don't listen to it," he snapped. "Don't agree to anything it tells you. Demand it's name only."

"Please, Mr. Cross, you give me no credit," the creature laughed. I fixed my stare on it once more. "I can give you everything back. All of you. I can give humanity, memories, and make sure you're not an_ unlovable husk _of a boy, isn't that what you want?"

"Yes," Conrad whispered, and Hanna stared at him, eyes wide in disbelief. "No, Conrad, don't listen, remember? Lies!"

"_You_ listen, boy," the dybbuk screeched, pressing its face close to the salt-barrier as possible. "Keep trying me, I dare you. Watch, and I'll show you what I can do! Your pathetic circles won't hold me forever. This box can't even hold me. Just watch, and I'll ruin your entire worthless life."

"Conrad, Algernon," the dybbuk crossed its two black, molten arms. "Shake a poor sinner's hand to make your wishes come true?"

"No!" Hanna was shouting by now, arms a glow with the unused runes as he jumped to try and hold Conrad back.

"Enough!" The dybbuk screamed, finally returning its gaze to me as Hanna held Conrad's arms down. "Fine. You, Algernon. You want your memories, right? I can give you them now. Just shake my hand." It extended the limb once more, pouring like black gossamer strands down and up and everywhere I looked.

"And if I agree, what is it you seek?" I questioned. Hanna stared at me in horror. And the dybbuk seemed to grin.

"Allow me to use your body, only momentarily, of course, in order to free myself of my prison. In exchange, I offer you my services."

"You will give me whatever I say I desire, then?"

"Certainly. Just shake my hand, dear Algernon. I'll take that body just for a bit in exchange for doing whatever it is you tell me, once, immediately after."

"Then we have a deal."

Hanna was visibly sobbing now, but I only gave him one last apologizing glance before I slipped my hand past the salt circle and grabbed hold of the dybbuk's. Immediately, everything I could see was consumed in black.


	3. Chapter 3: Everyone's Still Walking

It was dark. The blackness was only illuminated by my the light from my eyes, all soft orange hues dancing off of the eternal nothingness. I was back to walking, wandering in eternal purgatory as I searched for the end I would never find. I could hear nothing but the echoes of my own footsteps. Looking at my hands, I confirmed that yes, I was still wearing my gloves, and yes, I was still green, and thus more likely than not, a zombie.

"So what is it you will demand of me?"

The saccharine sweet voice rung throughout the entire place I was in. Bouncing off each non-existent wall, it finally settled in my ears. I closed my eyes, and when I reopened them, the dybbuk was floating in front of me, black nothingness only accented by the orange glow and beady red depths that served as its eyes.

"So you have brought me here," I began slowly, thinking about the choice I had made. "Where are we?"

"Currently, we are inside you, dearie," the dybbuk commented nonchalantly. "Inside your mind, more specifically. It is here that I will be able to most easily give you your memories back. Just tell me that is what you desire from our deal."

I contemplated the thought of retrieving my memories, how much I longed to know who I was in the past and how I ended up a member of the undead, but then I remembered the things I did remember, like Hanna, and how he lit up when we listened to Queen or how he had smiled at me the day he decided to order new business cards and changed the "Hanna Falk Cross Paranormal Investigator" to "Hanna Falk Cross and Partner". Remembering these things reminded me of why I'd chosen to accept the dybbuk's offer and of what I still had to do.

"I want your real name."

"My name? Well isn't that kind of pointless?" The dybbuk laughed at me, swirling up and down once again before getting closer and whispering as I had not heard it do before.

"My name is Danjal, Algernon, but it's a shame that was your demand. Now, seeing as our deal was _one_ request for your body, you are now mine."

"Ah, Danjal, but that is where you are wrong," I replied, closing my eyes on the dybbuk. "You agreed with me for one demand in exchange for Algernon's body. My name is not Algernon, you see. Hanna knew you were watching us, and I as well picked up on his repetition. You may have been able to read him, but seeing as I have very limited memory of this world or who I am, you could not do so to me. Unlike Hanna and Conrad, I have no name. I am merely called whatever Hanna desires me to be in any moment. We have found none have stuck and thus none of the name he has used are mine. And now that I know your name, Danjal, it is time you released me and returned to your box."

The dybbuk roared in fury, quite obviously not taken to being tricked. "No, mortal! You are wrong, you have no power here! I am the powerful one! I will haunt you and take possession of your soul!"

"Another flaw; my soul belongs only to whomever I give it to. Currently, that person is Hanna, not you."

The dybbuk growled again, feral and ready for attack. Its tar-like body was melting away, leaving dark shadowy angles and points, but I wasn't waiting to watch it fully transform.

"Let me go, Danjal. And return to the box where you belong"

By using its real name, the spirit was forced to let me free. It shrank away screeching and wailing.

I opened my eyes slowly at first, gazing up to a ceiling that I vaguely recognized but was not familiar with as the way that one might be with their own ceiling. Then again, ceilings aren't something I commonly took intense interest in. My thoughts were soon interrupted anyway.

"You're awake, Rip! God, I thought you'd actually agreed to the dybbuk's deal!"

My sight was suddenly obscured by a head of orange hair as two warm arms wrapped around my sides in a strong embrace. Hanna then.

"Hanna?" I questioned, still slightly groggy from being in my own mind. "Where's the dybbuk?"

"You sealed it back in the wine box! I have no idea how, but you did it! I just put some more runes on it and tossed a bunch of sand in the box before we closed it, and now it's locked shut over there."

Hanna finally faced me, blue eyes shining. His face was covered in dried tears. I raised a hand to wipe at his cheek.

"Hanna…were you crying?"

"Haha, yeaaah," he smiled, looking away from my face. Up close I could see the freckles that dusted Hanna's cheeks and the way his hairline had absolutely no consistent pattern. It led me to realize I'd never stopped to take notice of how objectively attractive Hanna could be, in a messy sort of way. But who wouldn't be messy when they lived a life as exciting as his?

"Only manly tears," Hanna insisted, still leaning on my chest. "I thought I'd lost my best friend."

Best friend. The words Hanna had mentioned before suddenly not only felt good but also stung in a way I couldn't quite describe. I was happy to be Hanna's best friend, but I was also sad. I wasn't used to so many emotions in one day, let alone in such intensity, and I suddenly felt the weariness growing inside of me. Perhaps all I would ever be to Hanna was his friend, his partner in work. I couldn't even say if I wanted anything else, could _be_ anything else, but I still wanted to know how far Hanna's love for his friends went and where he would make the transition into something more. I reached up and touched Hanna's cheek once more.

"You shouldn't cry, even if I am forced to leave you," I muttered, brushing his pale, human flesh with my dead green finger.

"I'll always cry, though," Hanna retorted. "You mean too much to me. More than anyone else has ever meant…" He trailed off, looking away in embarrassment and frustration at what I assumed to be lack of words to say what he wanted. Hanna rarely had nothing to say.

"You mean too much to _me_, Hanna."

And with that, I moved my head closer to Hanna's, pressing my dry lips against his slightly chapped ones in a light, chaste kiss in hopes of conveying all the feelings welling inside me at the time. I pulled back slowly when Hanna didn't immediately respond, and I watched him, fearful of what he may say or do. After the initial shock wore off, though, Hanna only opened his eyes and smiled up at me. Of all things, I hadn't expected that.

He climbed up onto the couch and I sat up wearily, trying to regain some of my previous strength. My lips tingled where Hanna's had been only moments before. That warm feeling returned.

"Gnee, Eros. Can we just stay like this for a bit? Conrad ran out to get Doc Worth after you were away, and since the dybbuk is locked away, I'm thinking I can call Lamont to dispose of it tomorrow. We better wait here for Doc and Connie to get here, or else things might end badly."

I nodded, and Hanna laughed leaning on my shoulder and sighing. We didn't speak about the kiss. We didn't need to. Both of us knew exactly what the other was feeling, and it was comforting having that companionship and dare I say, love. I stroked my hand through Hanna's untamed curls as he closed his eyes. I thought him half-asleep until he finally spoke through the silence.

"So how did you get that dybbuk back in the box?"

I thought for a moment before answering.

"You kept calling me Algernon, and the dybbuk thought that was my name. So I tricked it into agreeing to exchange a demand for my, Algernon's, body, but instead of demanding what it kept saying it knew I wanted, I asked for it's real name, and used that to lock it away."

Hanna was contemplatively quiet, his breathing a companionable background noise as I stroked his hair.

"Why didn't you ask for your memories back?"

"I didn't want them," I began. "I realized that without you, I really had no need for my memories. It didn't matter who I was or what I did if I wasn't going to be able to share them with you."

Hanna didn't respond. His breathing had evened out into low breaths, and I assumed he slept peacefully until Conrad and Worth stormed through the door a half-an-hour later. It occurred to me that I had wanted my memories back before I'd met Hanna, but I had grown tired of the aimless wandering without companionship. Once Hanna entered my life, I had no reason to walk alone. It was there in the quiet night with Hanna on my shoulder that I realized each day we walked together down the path of life created a memory I kept, and each of those were more precious than any memory I'd had before. Because now, Hanna helped me create new memories. Hanna was my reason, and for Hanna, I'd keep walking forever.


End file.
